


Can't Break the Ocean

by dumplingscomet



Category: Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 - Malloy, Voyná i mir | War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, F/F, Minor Original Character(s), Original Character(s), dolokhov's sister has a name it's lara
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:01:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24933421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dumplingscomet/pseuds/dumplingscomet
Summary: The crew of the pirate ship Marianna reaches the island of San Felipe Rey in search of a fabled treasure, but the treasure comes with a price: If nobody on board makes a sacrifice for true love within three weeks the entire crew faces certain death. When they come across a group of shipwrecked passengers on the same island in need of transport, Helene Kuragina expects more than a few strange events, but she doesn’t expect to lose her heart and watch her whole life turn around.
Relationships: Elena "Helene" Vasilyevna Kuragina/Sofia "Sonya" Alexandrovna Rostova/Lara Dolokhova, Elena "Hélène" Vasilyevna Kuragina/Sofia "Sonya" Alexandrovna Rostova, Marya "Mary" Nikolaevna Bolkonskaya/Natalya "Natasha" Ilyinichna Rostova
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Descriptions of characters based on Lilli!Helene, Ashley!Sonya & Mariand! Mary, rest are OBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a revised chapter one. I am attempting to rework the plot of this fic. Dolokhov is now the captain

The wind picked up around three in the afternoon, just enough for the Marianna to reach the isle of San Felipe Rey. At the same time, drops of rain began to fall from the clouds into the thick, humid air. By all appearances, the Marianna was any normal small merchant ship moving about through the cluster of islands. However - hidden under the shade of the sail - the sight of Fedya Dolokhov, the ship’s captain, wiping the blood off his sword suggested something far more sinister. 

“So where did you hear that there was a mysterious chest of buried treasure on this island, captain?” asked the helmsman, a small man called Balaga with a dark, curly beard.

“I’ve heard it’s about a quarter mile into the jungle,” Fedya replied, setting down the sword.

Several crew members began to emerge from belowdecks as the ship steadied on its anchor, among them his friends Anatole and Helene

“I’ve heard of gruesome things in that jungle,” Anatole said. “Sometimes it’ll get dark all of a sudden and people lose their way and fall into ravines.”

“Oh relax, Tolya,” laughed the helmsman, “People make up lies all the time when they leave treasure on remote islands because they want to come back for it themselves.”

Helene shook her head. “All sorts of unnatural things happen here, and there’s a grain of truth to every rumor, so I’d be damn careful.”

“All right then,” sighed Dolokhov, “You can stay behind.”

The trailhead, according to the map, began with a visible clearing between a few palm trees and bushes, some of them turned odd colors by the changing seasons.

“So there are marks on the trees that tell you where to go, right?” asked Balaga. “Is the trail cleared all the way?”

“Most of the way,” Dolokhov replied, “Of course, the last bit is up to us if we’re the ones to find it.” 

He turned back to Helene as Balaga followed her up the trailhead. 

“We’ll be back as fast as we can.”

To Helene’s surprise, one of the younger crewmates came down the hill about twenty minutes later, one called Yura with washed-out peach skin, grey eyes, and dirty blond hair. Following a few paces behind came the rest of the crew, including Balaga with the mysterious chest.

“You made it down, huh,” she called as they reached him on the beach. “Something could still happen between now and when we get back to the ship.”

“I never pegged you for a pessimist, Elena Vasilyevna,” Dolokhov called back.

“I was only being cautious,” sighed Helene.

A bolt of lightning struck down on the beach a few yards away.

“And perhaps I was right.”

“Well, what good does that serve when you’ll be just as dead as the rest of us?” Dolokhov demanded.

Two more bolts fell and the clouds turned dark.

“Son of a bitch!” exclaimed Yura. the drizzle of rain falling on his hair as lightning struck again, only without under.

“GOOD AFTERNOON, STRANGERS,” boomed a voice. “YOU HAVE COME TO THIS ISLAND IN SEARCH OF A TREASURE, AND YOU HAVE FOUND IT. THERE IS NO TURNING AWAY NOW. HOWEVER, IF ONE OF YOU WRETCHED SOULS DOES NOT MAKE A SACRIFICE FOR TRUE LOVE BEFORE SEPTEMBER THE THIRD YOUR CREW WILL FACE IMMINENT DEATH.”

Another bolt of lightning struck the sky and light returned, though it all seemed a little darker than before. Rain continued to fall, with intermittent thunder in the distance.

“Do you think that was real?” Yura asked.

“I would air on the side of caution,” replied Helene.

“But what does airing on the side of caution mean with this?” asked Dolokhov. “And what the hell is true love anyway?”

“There are spirits in these islands, Balaga explained. “Perhaps it is their work, protecting the island and dealing with magic.”

“Well if that’s true they could very well be playing a trick on us,” said Yura. “Not to mention blaming things on magic isn’t all too reasonable of a thing to-”

“None of this is reasonable,” Helene scoffed. “Not in the way we know it.”


	3. Candles and Blankets and Spiders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha returns to Mary's cell with a candle and they look at each other more clearly in the light

Natasha returned below decks at around ten, holding a thin red candle in a small pan.

“Not to be rude, but what took you so long?” asked Mary.

Natasha looked down, her dark eyes briefly reflecting back the candlelight.

“I… a lot of things, I guess. for one, I don’t remember how I got down here, I guess I just kept going down until it wasn’t hot anymore.”

“Interesting,” said Mary. “The candle holder’s on the right side of the door at about… probably chin level for you.”

“Thanks,” said Natasha.

As Natasha walked across the crooked boards of the dungeon, she found the space far more decrepit in the light than she’d originally thought it to be. Every pole   
holding up the roof shed dust and cobwebs and many of them had splinter-inducing cracks down their sides. Not only that, but only in the candlelight did she realize that the dungeon consisted of about ten tight cells, each one just wide enough for a chair and chamber pot though, thankfully, Mary’s had been emptied and the rest of the cells had no occupants. all the cell doors, including Mary’s were cracked open and shook a little in the breeze. 

“So they let you just sit here with your door open?” Natasha asked as she sat back down next to Mary.

“Do you have a problem with that?” 

“No, I just wouldn’t expect it, given that they’re bent on keeping you here so your father will stop pursuing them.”

“Well, I mean there isn’t exactly anywhere for me to go where they wouldn’t see me,” said Mary. “And my hands are tied.”

Natasha squinted and moved a little closer to Mary. “I suppose they are. Should I untie them?”

“No. One of us will get in trouble when Dolokhov comes downstairs tomorrow.”

Natasha sighed. “I should have expected that. Wouldn’t you like me to free them, just for a moment, though?”

Mary exhaled, looked at Natasha, and then looked back down at her hands “Sure, I guess.”

Picking up her skirt to avoid getting dust on it, Natasha walked the one and a half paces into Mary’s cell. As she stood up, Mary couldn’t help but admire Natasha’s form, now more fully defined in the candlelight. The girl’s face was a near-perfect ovular shape, neither too thin, too wide, too tall, or too short and almost completely symmetrical. With her hair in a tight bun, Mary also noticed the particular grace with which Natasha’s shoulders connected to her neck.   
As those thoughts crossed her mind, Natasha sat back down again.

“Where’s the knot in the ropes?” she asked.

“On the right,” said Mary. “It’s almost impossible to untie that way.”

Natasha nodded and dug her nails into the knot.

“I suppose one advantage to having grown these out on the island is that knots are a bit easier to untie,” she remarked. 

Mary nodded. “If my hands weren’t tied I’d say the same of being stuck here. Helene may be a decent person to me but she hasn’t provided me with a nail file.”

Natasha laughed. “You could scratch the boards of your cell like a cat, though.”

Mary cringed. “I’d rather not. Might accidentally get a few insects stuck under them. Anyhow, if you’re going to untie my hands, how about you move a little closer so I   
don’t have to reach out awkwardly, huh?”

Natasha nodded and got up onto her knees for a better angle.

There were two pieces to the knot which tied Mary’s hands together. First, a double-knot on the right side tied the rope ends together, then a knot between her left and right hand to prevent her from slipping out of the ropes. After untying the first double-knot, Natasha assumed the second one would come out easily, but it was a strange combination of a double-knot and a bowline that was difficult to navigate in the dim candlelight.

“You can stop there,” said Mary. “I’ll get this one. I’ve seen them do it a few times.”

“Alright,” said Natasha, moving to sit back down.   
At a slightly farther away distance, Natasha began making out Mary’s form. She stood probably half a head shorter than Natasha and was of a dull peach complexion with small dark eyes, and a long, slender nose. Her hair, not quite straight, was braided in a sort of crown shape that wrapped around her head but, due to neglect, it had begun to unravel itself. Though her appearance may have been considered plain by the standards of Novaya Archangel society due to her small, slightly dumpy frame, and small eyes, there was a certain endearing quality about the way Mary looked at Natasha, and a certain grace with which her hands untied the bowline.

“Would you like me to fix your braid?” Natasha asked.

Mary furrowed. “It’s getting a little late, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you head upstairs?”

“I don’t know,” said Natasha. “I’m not particularly keen on going back up there and running into the man who harassed me over a candle. Would it be too difficult to sleep here? Will the bugs bite me?”

Mary crossed her arms in thought for a moment. On one hand, there were spiders which had given her some serious pain. On the other hand, by the fifth spider, she figured out what could ease the pain and how to avoid them. Blankets and shawls were particularly effective. On one hand, she knew having someone with her would ease her half-asleep anxieties. On the other hand, she feared what Natasha would do if she got hurt sleeping in the dungeon.

Then again, as she looked down, Natasha almost seemed to regard her with the same gaze Mary had moments earlier. And did seem to want to stay.

“Will they bite me… the bugs?” Natasha asked again

Mary sighed. “Not any more than they do above decks. and if you don’t mind lying close to me we can share the blanket and shawl that keep the spiders away.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk if I mentioned this before but Mary here is based on Shaina Taub (bottom left girl in this picture)  
> 


End file.
